Summary: Marc reflects on his side of things during the kidnapping and the week that followed. You get more in-tune with your power of Pathokinesis. You decide it's time to develop a plan of action.
Warnings: angst, violence, negative body image, abuse, (then fluff and love I promise), slight sexual content
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Marc sighed as he sat his phone down on the bed next to him. The hotel was nice, but it wasn't home. He'd never really minded the travel that came with the job, but that was before he met you.
He rubbed his hands over his face as he thought about your voice. Your laugh, your smile. Your hair, the way it was everywhere all at once. Your skin, your legs, and before he knew it, he was hard. He ran his large hand down his abdomen and into his boxers, stroking his length slowly as his face twisted up in pleasure while he imagined you between his legs, taking him into your mouth the way only you could.
The thought was interrupted when his phone started buzzing next to him. He looked over, puzzled, then smiled when he saw it was you.
"Hello?" He said with a bit of humor in his voice, wondering how you knew what he was up to.
His stomach dropped and he sat upright when you didn't respond. He tensed, his pulse racing in his throat, sensing something was wrong. He heard your voice faintly in the midst of commotion, followed by the voice of someone familiar -- then chaos. Next came the sound of crashing, breaking, and eventually the line disconnected.
He flew out of bed, throwing his shirt on and gathering his things as he tried to redial your number, to no success.
"Fuck!" He yelled as he frantically tried again, and again.
What's happened? Steven asked with worry as Marc made his way down the hall and into the elevator, impatiently mashing buttons to get to the lobby. Steven gawked at him in the reflection, concern painted on his face.
"I don't know. I don't know, something's wrong," Marc said, stirring up all kinda of anxiety and rage as he ran into the parking lot, the cold night air raising goosebumps on his arms.
